


Isolating

by SevenCorvus



Series: Avengers 50 Prompt Table [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Slash, gen - Freeform, or - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenCorvus/pseuds/SevenCorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something isolating about leadership.</p><p>Prompt: leadership<br/>Characters: Steve Rogers/Nick Fury (can be read as gen or slash)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isolating

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of my NaNoWriMo project, and for the prompt "leadership" on the [Avengers 50 Prompt Table](http://sevencorvus.livejournal.com/24907.html). Each of my prompt fills will be covering a different character combination and most can be read as gen or romantic, I leave it up to you to decide. I will be posting a fic a day for the rest of this month (at least). Thank you to LDF and Fire for handling all of my spazzing out. Feedback is love and will be rewarded with cookies (and smut).
> 
> Warnings: some cursing (it's Fury, what do you expect).

There was something isolating about leadership. There were benefits to his position of course. He was secure enough that he could basically tell the Council to fuck off for one. He had the pleasure of recruiting and guiding new agents through the ranks, seeing them succeed and develop. There were definitely benefits to his position; after all he was the goddammed Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. 

There were downsides though, day after long day of crisis situations that needed his oversight and management. Restless, lonely nights, where he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, wondering if he'd made the right calls. Only to slip into sleep and abruptly awaken, body tensing from nightmares and regrets, the faces of agents he'd lost over the years staring at him accusingly with empty eyes. 

He got through it all, did what he had to do, made the tough calls, and hoped for the best. Not that hope was something he was good at. He had other things to call upon. The determination of his people, his pride in his top agents, his one good eye. He admitted that he had made his fair share of mistakes, but he thought that as long he still had people who could call him on his bullshit, who could advise him if necessary, and look at him with almost gentle reproach when he messed up, that he need never fear crossing that invisible line completely.

It could be lonely being the leader, the one in charge, who had to stay on top of every situation, the one everyone turned to. Fortunately, he now had someone in his life who understood his position completely. He had never expected it, though in truth that's one mistake he had thought he would never make, underestimating Steve Rogers. 

He had heard all the stories, but nothing could have really prepared him for meeting the legend in person. Getting to know him, and realizing, that yes he really was that decent and understanding, and good. Even devastated and confused by waking up 70 years in the future, there was just some aura of goodness that surrounded him. That made people want to listen, to follow, to live up to his example, and make him proud. 

Fury had never been that kind of leader, he did his best, looked after his people any way he could, and tried to be there for them, but he had never had any illusions of being a good man, at best he was a necessary one. 

Still, there was something relaxing about being around Steve, something soothing, as if he didn't have to maintain the illusion of control at all times, as if he could let himself relax a little, and lean on someone else for just a little while. Steve never let on that he thought there was anything unusual about the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. watching him workout, filling out paperwork while the Captain did his best to break the new Stark designed punching bag. It became something of a habit, a ritual, not something Fury allowed himself often of course, but when he needed it most, when he seemed to feel the weight of the world, and dealt with crisis after crisis, or buried yet another of his agents. Then he would allow himself the small pleasure of quietly soaking in Steve's presence. 

Things continued in that vein for sometime, Fury if not happy, then at least slightly more content with his place in the world. When Steve naturally decided to throw a wrench in his comfortable routine, and one day he crept into the room, his normal stealthiness thrown off by an unfortunate concussion, but that's what happens when a wall decides to fall on you, only for Steve to turn his way, gently grip his arm and guide him up to the Captain's room, hanging his leather jacket in his closet, and putting the weary, unresisting Director into bed, pulling him back to rest against Steve’s chest, arms wrapped tightly around him.


End file.
